Broken Realities
by Child of Insanity
Summary: Harry Potter has defeated Voldemort, but at great cost. Tired, and scarred, he has chosen to give up his reality for a world where his happiest dream is real. But when darkness decends on the real world, only one person can bring him back. HD slash.
1. Proluge

**  
Disclaimer: **characters belong to JKR and Warner Bros.**  
  
PROLUGE**  
  
The war is over, thanks in a large part to the efforts of Harry Potter, and the sacrifices of many people. But war never passes without loss, and by the time it is all finished, and the rubble is cleared from everybody's lives, empty holes are left where friends once were, leaving gaping blackness where laughter and love once was.  
  
Harry Potter truly believes that he has lost everything. At seventeen, he is a wounded, battle-scarred hero, one who has saved many lives, and yet doesn't feel as if what he has won is truly worth what he lost to get there.  
  
He has emerged victorius from the final battle with Voldemort, to the cheers of those who survived alongside him, the sweet taste of victory as bitter as ashes in his mouth.  
  
He wanted to hears his friends voices raised amongst the cheering crowd, wanted to hear his godfather, his parents, his old Headmaster.  
  
He wanted to see Remus smiling up at him by Sirius' side, to see the Weasley's grinning and waving, and to watch as the twins let off Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes fireworks for him.  
  
Their faces, however, were all conspicuously absent from the crowd that greeted him, and rather than rejoicing like he knew he should be, he felt like weeping.  
  
Now he was going to give it all up. He had done enough, they agreed, to deserve happiness that he could not receive in the world they were working so hard to rebuild, and they knew that there was no way that they could give it to him here.  
  
Just one drink, he was told, and his happiest dreams would become his reality, while his body would lay protected in a world that didn't need him anymore.  
  
Just one drink.


	2. Chapter One

**CHAPTER ONE**  
  
Harry swallowed the medicine his mother gave to him, choking down the urge to spit the bitter liquid back out. He made a face once he had finished, scrunching up his nose in distaste.  
  
"That's just going to make me feel worse." He said childishly.  
  
His mother laughed as she refastened the bottle lid, and brushed his hair fondly off his forehead, her green eyes sparkling. "Ginny and Ron are here to see you." She told him, winking knowingly.  
  
He blushed, and ducked his face from his mother's view. HIs parents teased him mercilessly about Ginny, his best friend's younger sister, and his new girlfriend. They'd only started dating a couple of weeks ago, to cries of annoyance from her brother Ron, and delight from her mother.  
  
When Harry's parents had found out, they'd imimediately launched into teasing cries about just how 'cute' they were together. Of course, once his father had found out, his godfather had quickly followed, bringing advice on how he should 'interact' with his girlfriend in more private settings - not, Harry thought, that he would know, given his sexual preferences - and remarking on how similar Harry was to his father.  
  
Appearance, sense of adventure, and now a taste for fiery red-headed girls; Sirius had been amused to no end by the similarities, and only Lily's disapproving smile had stopped him from embarrassing Harry too much.  
  
"But I'm sick!" He said, then winced at how childish he sounded.  
  
"And they're worried about you." His mother countered, heading for the door.  
  
"I don't see why." Harry muttered sullenly, dark bitterness tainting his voice as he realised that he didn't know why he was so reluctant to see his friends. He was so tired, and for some reason, he felt as if they had abandoned him, had left him to something that he couldn't face alone, something that he couldn't do without his friends by his side.  
  
But that hadn't happened, was only bare snatches of a nightmare that he couldn't quite remember. One which was vanquished finally by his mother's twinkling laughter rining in his ears. He sighed, tiredly, and nodded at her.  
  
"Tell them I'll be down in a minute," he told her, fingering the sleeve of his pajama top. "I'm just going to get changed."  
  
He took his time getting dressed, and when he finally made his way downstairs, he found Sirius and Ron engrossed in a game of chess - Sirius losing horribly - and Ginny sitting on the couch with Remus, discussing the assignment that he had given her English class over the holidays.  
  
He smiled at the sight, basking for a moment in the simple warmth that it filled him with.   
  
Sirius seemed to have sensed him there, because he looked up from his chess game, and grinned wolfishly. "Nice of you to join us, Harry."  
  
Harry couldn't help the answering grin that formed on his face, and he made his way over to the couch sitting down, a little nervously, beside Ginny.   
  
"'Morning," he said, to the room in general.  
  
Ginny pasued in her converation with Remus, to smile at him, and to reach over and clasp his hand.  
  
"Hullo," she said quietly, kissing his cheek quickly, before turning back to Remus.  
  
Harry found, much to his embarrassment, that he was blushing.  
  
"Hermione," Ron said, his voice slightly disdainful. "Couldn't be here because she's got a date with Viktor." He didn't move his eyes from the game in front of him, but Harry was sure that his expression was one of disgust. "She says sorry, and wants to know whether you're well enough to come and see a movie with us on the weekend."  
  
Harry snickered. "Will Viktor be there, Ron?"  
  
Ron lifted his head to glower at him. "No," he snarled. "He won't." A self-satisfied grin appeared on his face. "I made her promise not to bring him."  
  
Across from Ron, Sirius snorted, and Harry was quick to roll his eyes as well.  
  
"Someone might think you were jealous, Ron," Sirius told him, smirking.  
  
Ron made an incoherent growl at him, before moving a chess piece, then folding his arms across his chest and grinning. "Check-mate, Sirius."  
  
Sirius studied the board momentarily, then shook his head. "I don't know why I even bother."  
  
"Someone might think you were a tad masochistic." Remus commented from across the room, a faint smile on his face. He shook his head as Sirius stuck his tongue out at him. "Mature, Sirius, very mature."  
  
Sirius grinned. "That's why you love me, Moony."  
  
Lily walked into the room and placed a plate of chocolate buscuits down on the coffe table beside Harry, laughing as she did so.  
  
"Cute, Sirius, very cute," she said, grinning. She sat down in the armchair across from Remus. "Albus wants to know whether you're going to be at the reunion next weekend, Sirius. He also suggested that if you were planning on coming, I remind you of the neccessity to play nice with the other boys. Which means that he doesn't want to see any of the petty fights which were so common between you and Severus when we were at school."  
  
Sirius made a face. "Petty? I'll have you know that greasy haired git-"  
  
"Sirius." Remus' quiet voice held a note of warning.   
  
"What?!"  
  
Lily fixed a narrow look on him. "I would appreciate it if you didn't badmouth the children's teacher in front of them." Both Harry an Ron snickered at that, and she turned the look to them. "It's bad enough when they do it themselves, they don't need to have someone they lookk up to doing the same thing."  
  
Sirius folded his arms across his chest and, to Harry's considerable amusement, pouted.  
  
Remus rolled his eyes. "Again with the maturity, Sirius." He turned to Lily, a determined smile on his face. "You can let Albus know that he will be at the reunion, and there will be no fighting with Severus, even if I have to tie him to a chair to do so."  
  
"Remus!" Sirius sounded terribly scandalized, although the glint in his eyes belied his tone of voice. "Not in front of the children!"  
  
Harry began to cough, drawing Lily's attention to himself, quite certain that his doing so was the only thing that saved Sirius from being yelled at by both Remus, and his mother.


	3. Chapter Two

A/N: The Harry/Ginny will be explained soon. . . don't worry though, this will be Draco/Harry ;)**  
  
CHAPTER TWO  
  
**Draco Malfoy fixed his former Professor, turned Headmistress of Howarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Minerva McGonagall, with a quelling glare.  
  
"No," he said firmly.  
  
McGonagall's return glare was far sterner, and a fair bit less petulant than Draco's own. "Mr Malfoy," she began, voice firm. "You are the best, and perhaps only, choice for this job. You will do it."  
  
Draco sneered. "I cannot comprehend where you got the impression that I would be the best choice for this particular job, but I suggest that you forget it. I am not going."  
  
"You must, Malfoy, and you will," she told him. "When you joined the Order of the Phoenix, you agreed to do whatever was in your power to help with our cause. I am asking you to do so now."  
  
"Headmistress," Draco's voice was politeness touched with ice. "I respect your position, and the fact that you deem this necessary, however, I do not agree with you. As much as I disliked, and truth be told, still dislike, Harry Potter, I do not believe that it is fair to him for you to do this. He has earned whatever rest you and yours have provided him with, and I do not think that it will benefit us to take that away from him. We do not need him for this."  
  
"Mr Malfoy, I do not think you understand the gravity of our current situation. The Dementors are returning, as are many of the creatures we believed followed Voldemort. Something is happening, and while we do not yet know what it is, we do know that it is not good."  
  
Draco snorted at that, and McGonagall paused in what she was saying to glare at him.  
  
"I understand perfectly, Headmistress," he replied. "Yet that does not mean I agree with the course of action you wish to take. And even if I did, I would still not think I was the correct choice to complete this task. Potter and I have never had anything even remotely approaching a friendly relationship."  
  
"I know, Malfoy," McGonagall suddenly looked tired. "But there is no one else who can do this. Anyone who might have had a chance is either dead, or missing. You are our only hope."  
  
Draco allowed himself a small sigh, and crossed his arms, wiping the glare off his face and regarding McGonagall through resigned eyes. "Isn't there a way we can pull him out of this without having to send someone in there to get him?"  
  
McGonagall shook her head. "He has to return of his own free will, that was part of the spell."  
  
"And you expect him to want to return with me? He never liked me in reality, and I doubt that he will be any more likely to do so in his dreams, perfect that they are."  
  
McGonagall removed her glasses from her face, and began to clean the lenses wearily. "Nonetheless, we need you to try. He is our only hope."  
  
Draco closed his eyes, raising a hand to cover them briefly, before opening them again. "I'll try. I doubt that I will succeed, but I will try."  
  
McGonagall sighed gratefully, and replaced her glasses on her face. "Thank you."  
  
Draco Malfoy had killed his first man the day before his sixteenth birthday. He had watched, eyes cold, mind numb, as the man's body - a Muggle who had stumbled across some of his father's less savoury doings - had slowly turned cold in front of his eyes, body stiffening in death.  
  
Three months later, he had killed his second man, a Death Eater friend of his father's. He had joined the Order of the Phoenix three days earlier.  
  
That man's death had not been far slower than the first man, and Draco had watched as blue flames had licked their way up his body, had choked on the smell of burning flesh, his mouth dry with the taste of ashes.  
  
The potion that would send him into Harry Potter's dream world tasted of death, and as he swallowed it, those first two men's faces flashed across his vision, and he thought briefly that what he was tasting was, in actuality, their death.  
  
As the potion began to work its magic, and sleep started to overcome him, he could hear their screams ringing in his ears.  
  
Draco woke to find himself laying on an exact replica of the bed he had had at Malfoy Manor, in a sparsely decorated bedroom. He blinked several times, trying to reconcile this with the fact that he was meant to be in Harry's dream world.  
  
After allowing several moments for what had happened to sink in, he stood, and made his way out of the room.  
  
He was in a tasteful, yet simple house, that looked as if it came straight from the pages of a Muggle interior design catalogue. It was, he was suprised to note, almost exactly what the sort of home he would have chosen to live in had he needed to stay in the Muggle world. He supposed that his own thoughts were molding Harry's world to suit his needs as well.  
  
Half an hour later he had changed into Muggle clothing - black denim jeans, and a rich green turtleneck - and was walking slowly down a busy London street.  
  
After he had changed, he had cast a quick location spell - thanking Merlin the whole time that he could still use his magic here - which had told him where Harry currently was. After consulting with a London street directory, he had narrowed Harry's location down to a movie theatre in central London.  
  
Now all he had to do was somehow convince Harry that the world he had created wasn't actually real, and that he wanted to return with Draco to the wizarding world. He doubted it was going to be a particularly easy task.


	4. Chapter Three

**A/N: ** Thanks heaps to the wonderful people who reviewed the last chapters!  
  
Draco and Harry meet. Or re-meet. Or whatever. Enjoy  
  
**CHAPTER THREE  
  
**Harry blinked several times in quick succession as they stepped out of the movie theatre, the bright sunlight making his eyes water.  
  
"Blergh," he muttered, shadowing his eyes with his hand. "I'm melting."  
  
Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "I really don't think that you are, Harry," she told him, shaking her head.  
  
Ginny squeezed his hand, and nodded her agreement to Hermione's statement. "Nope. Definitely not melting."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. "No need to take things so literally."  
  
Beside him, Ron snorted. "This is Hermione we're talking about."  
  
Hermione turned around and punched him lightly on the arm. "What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
Ron shook his head, stepping back from her. "Top of the class, knows everything, never wrong? Ring a bell?"  
  
Harry, head turned so he could watch what was sure to develope into an argument between the two, stumbled, and almost fell, as he walked straight into another person.  
  
Certain that his face was fast becoming a shocking red colour, he turned, already stammering out apologies, only to stop mid sentence, blinking stupidly at the person in front of him.  
  
Said person calmly raised one elegant blond eyebrow, and proceeded to regard him with an air of detached interest.  
  
"S-sorry," Harry muttered, ducking his head so that his bangs hid his eyes, yet he could still see the other person through his hair.  
  
The blond shrugged, the movement practically oozing elegance, and shook his head. "No harm done," he said calmly, his detachment flickering briefly into a smile. It vanished almost as quickly as it had come, replaced by a faint look of recognition in his eyes, as he turned his face towards Hermione. "Do I know you from somewhere?  
  
Harry lifted his head so that he could look at Hermione, and was pleased to note that he wasn't the only person who's cheeks were turning red.  
  
"I'm sorry," Hermione said, looking back at the blond curiously. "I really don't-"  
  
The blond snapped his fingers, looking pleased with himself. "Hermione Granger!" He exclaimed. "I knew I'd met you before."  
  
Hermione's cheeks turned even redder. "I'm terribly sorry, but I honestly don't remember you."  
  
The blond waved off her apologies with a shake of his head. "Don't be, I didn't really expect you to, it was quite some time ago." He smiled, but Harry noticed that it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Allow me to reintroduce myself," he held his hand out to her. "Draco Malfoy."  
  
Hermione pursed her lips together, brow furrowing slightly. "Your name does sound familiar. . ." She shrugged. "I'm just terrible with faces, sorry."  
  
Draco shook his head again. "What say we have coffee?" His eyes flicked back to Harry, Ron and Ginny briefly. "Of course, if you're busy, we could try and meet sometime later?"  
  
Hermione nodded quickly. "No, today will be fine," Another blush as she seemed to remember that the three of them were still there. "If that's alright with the three of you?"  
  
Ginny nodded emphatically. "As long as you don't mind us joining you. I'm dying for a hot chocolate."  
  
Hermione tilted her head towards Draco in enquiry, who nodded his agreement.   
  
"Wonderful."  
  
They ended up in a small coffee shop not far from Harry's house, the owner, Rosie, was a friend of his parents, and always saw to it that they got the best service, and several freebies as well.  
  
Draco had looked at her strangely when they had first arrived, but had seemed to shake what ever he surprise he had felt away quickly, and proceeded to charm both Hermione and Ginny with sweet words, and entertaining stories.  
  
He had, Harry noted, feeling slightly resentful, something of a silver tongue, and had no qualms about using it on Harry's girlfriend, despite the fact that they were rather obviously - or at least he thought so - dating.  
  
"So Draco," Hermione said, after Draco had finished telling them all about something that had happened in his home town - somewhere that Harry had never heard of. "What are you doing in London?"  
  
Draco smiled at her, oozing charm from every pore. "I'm actually transferring to a school here, Hogwarts?"  
  
Hermione and Ginny beamed at him, whilst beside Harry, Ron barely concealed a wince.  
  
"Really?" Ginny said. "That's wonderful! The four of us are there."  
  
Draco's grey eyes lit with surprise. "Do you? That is wonderful, I'll at leat have someone I know there. I've been feeling a bit apprehensive about starting at a new school, especially in my final year."  
  
Harry groaned quietly, and Ron muttered, under his breath, "I'll bet you were, you smarmy bastard."  
  
Harry couldn't help the snicker that escaped his lips at that, and shrugged when Draco looked at him curiously.  
  
"You'll be in our year then," Hermione told him.  
  
Draco smiled brightly at her. "Excellent."  
  
It wasn't until later that night, when Harry was laying in bed staring up at his ceiling, that he realised that Draco had never told them how he knew Hermione. It struck him as strange for some reason, but by that point he was too tired to really think about it.  
  
He began to drift off to sleep, promising himself that he would give it more thought in the morning.


	5. Chapter Four

  
  
**CHAPTER FOUR  
  
**Draco's smile was bright, and just a little dangerous as he fixed his uniform in the mirror. His tie, striped red and gold, refused to sit straight, and he suspected that had something to do with the Gryffindor colours he was being forced to wear. That, or his disgust at the fact that Harry's dream uniform was exactly the same as their Hogwarts one, minus the robes. It was more than a little pathetic.  
  
He couldn't say that he was even remotely excited about starting at Harry's version of Hogwarts, or, for that matter, of attending a school that was for all intents and appearances, Muggle.  
  
Malfoys did not do Muggle.  
  
...........  
  
"Draco!"  
  
Draco turned, quickly pasting a smile onto his face, and hiding the wince that hearing the youngest Weasley call him by his first name brought on. He was having considerable trouble getting used to being on friendly terms with these people he had spent so long hating.  
  
"Ginny," he returned, waving slightly at her, and forcing himself to sound like he was at least a little happy to see her. "How've you been?"  
  
She shrugged, long red hair swishing about her shoulders. She was pretty, he decided, in her own way, but far from his type.  
  
"I've been alright," she said, coming to a stop in front of him, bouncing back and forth on her heels slightly. "And you?"  
  
Draco didn't know how to answer that. Disorientated? Annoyed? Tired? Desperate to just get this all over with so that he could go back to his own world? Maybe even a little guilty for what he was here to do?  
  
He settled for waving his hand slightly in the air. "So so," he replied. "I've been getting used to being in a new place. London is very different from where I used to live."  
  
Ginny nodded sympathetically, and understanding smile on her face. "I know how you feel. When we first moved here, I used to get lost all the time. It was terribly embarrassing. And to add to that, I knew no one but my family. I hated my first year here. It was awful."  
  
Draco wondered if that was a reflection of her first year at the real Hogwarts. He was fairly certain that it couldn't have been the most pleasant of times. He'd met Voldemort, and shuddered to think what it would have been like to be possessed by him. Far from pleasant, he was sure.  
  
Pushing those thoughts aside, and marking the intracacies of Harry's world as too complex to try and work through at that particular moment, he smiled at her. "Hopefully my year won't be too bad."  
  
Her return smile was bright and sincere. "I'm sure it will."  
  
...........  
  
His first class turned out to be Advanced Chemistry with none other than Professor Snape, and the friendly neighbourhood Gryffindor trio. He suspected it would be an interesting lesson.  
  
He was right. Less than five minutes into the lesson he discovered Neville Longbottom - once more the fumbling young teen he had known rather than the jaded survivor of war he knew now - when a beaker blew up, shards of class flying across the room, one smaller slice embedding itself in Draco's palm as he turned to see what had happened.  
  
He hissed under his breath, clenching his other handing into a tight fist, and squeezing his eyes shut.  
  
Not thinking, he breathed a quiet 'Merlin' out under his breath, eyes snapping open as he realised what he had said, in time to see Harry whisk around to face him, eyes widening in what Draco thought might be recognition.  
  
The moment of recognition passed quickly, and Hogwarts own Golden Boy was up out of his seat, and at Draco's side in a flash. The worry in his eyes was disconcerting - something Draco had never seen, and thought that he never would in conjunction with him. He wondered when the things in this world would cease to amaze him.  
  
"Draco." His name, coming from Potter's lips, was just as strange, and he closed his eyes briefly, fighting against the overwhelming weirdness of it all. "Are you all right?"  
  
His eyes snapped open again, and he frowned slightly. "Does it look like I am?" He scowled down at his hand, watching as blood slowly seeped out around the shard of glass. In the Wizarding world he would have had one of the best Healers avaible to fix it. Here, he was forced to grit his teeth and endure the pain, allowed only to rely on Muggle medicine lest he attract unwanted attention to himself. Physically induced pain was not something that he was particularly used to, something he had only been forced to endure when caused by his own stupidity.  
  
Countless fights with the teen in front of him sprang to mind, and he allowed a slight smile to flit across his mouth.  
  
Harry, strangely enough, was blushing, eyes lowered so that Draco couldn't look him in the eyes. "Right," he muttered. "Sorry."  
  
Someone cleared their throat, and Draco looked up quickly, seeing Snape frowning down at them.  
  
"Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy. May I ask what is going on here?"   
  
Those words, in that disdainful tone Draco had grown so used to over the years sent a pang of something akin to home-sickness through him, and he lowered his own eyes, smiling sadly.  
  
Snape, while not exactly a friend, had been one of the few people Draco had managed to find it in himself to actually care for. It had been hard to lose him, and seeing him here, not quite real, was almost as hard.  
  
"Professor," Draco was more than a little amused to see that Harry's lips curled in distaste as he looked at Snape. "Neville's beaker, it exploded-"  
  
"- I had noticed, Mister Potter," Snape interjected drily.  
  
Harry glared at him. "-And one of the shards is in Draco's hand," his eyes flicked to rest on Draco pointedly. "Professor."  
  
Snape returned the glare with equal distaste before turning to inspect Draco's hand. "I suggest, Mister Malfoy, that you head to the infirmary and get that taken care of."  
  
If the man in front of him had been the Severus Snape that Draco had once known, he would have made some sort of sarcastic reply to that, before heading to the infirmary. Meeting this Snape's eyes, as he stood, he knew that he would be unable to do that here. The man's eyes were cold, and there was very little of the man that Draco had once knew in them.  
  
It hurt, and when Harry reached his hand out to him - to help him, or for something else, Draco wasn't sure what - he flinched away, unable to stand contact with the person who had twisted everything he had once known and cared for, into something so harshly wrong.   
  
He closed his eyes briefly, then stood, his uninjured hand clenched into a fist as he made his way to the infirmary, his thoughts at that moment focused only on getting back to the real world as soon as he could.  
  
........... 


End file.
